The Tales of Quidditch
by TartCat207
Summary: Hello everyone! This is another collection of entirely unrelated short stories and one-shots for the Quidditch League Competition. Enjoy! Rated T to cover any and all stories.
1. Eye Rolls

**Hi everyone! This is a collection of one-shots all written for the QLFC. Now that I'm an official member instead of a reserve, I thought that I should have a collection instead of making tons and tons of separate one-shots. So yeah, here's the first story! It was written for the Daily Prophet Competition. By the way, the order in which the events happen is not entirely accurate, but I'm putting it that way for my own reasons. Anyway, enjoy!**

 **Team: Puddlemere United**

 **Position: Chaser Two**

 **Position Prompt: Ginny - Bat Bogey Hex**

 **Optional Prompts:**

 **Laughter**

 **Teacup**

 **Contrary**

 **Word Count (not including AN): 1,025**

 **Beta'ed by: JBrocks917**

 **Here's the story: Eye Rolls. I know. Bad title. Whatever.**

As the Hogwarts Express chugged its way to Hogwarts, Ginny Weasley walked back to her compartment with her friends in the fifth year. She had just gone to get some sweets from the trolley, and her arms were stuffed with Pumpkin Pasties and Chocolate Cauldrons.

She had almost arrived and was stuffing all the treats she could in her pockets when she saw none other than Zacharias Smith come barreling out of his compartment.

"Weasley," he said in his annoying voice, "I've been looking for you all day."

She rolled her eyes. "So now you have. Good for you! You've learned to navigate, walk, and have an actual goal in life - so many things to list!"

He scowled. "Well, I've been meaning to ask you - what happened at the Department of Mysteries? You know, when you, Potter, your Weasley brother, Granger, and Lovegood snuck off because of who-knows-what."

She rolled her eyes again. "It's none of your business," she said, "Now get out of my way."

She made to go back to her compartment, but he blocked the way. "Not before you tell me what happened at the Ministry," he said stubbornly.

She rolled her eyes for the third time that day. To think, before she had run into him, she had a clean record. And they had just been talking for five minutes.

"I'm not telling you, now _get out of my way_." she repeated, pushing past him.

He rubbed his shoulder where Ginny had pushed him. "Ow," he winced.

She rolled her eyes once more.

"You know, you're eyes are going to get stuck like that if you keep rolling them," he said, jogging to catch up with her.

"Go back to wherever you came from, Smith." she said.

"I just want to know what happened at the Ministry! If you tell me that, I'll let you go."

"No."

"Fine. Be that way."

Then, faster than a whip, he took out his wand and pointed it at her. " _Rictusempra!"_ He yelled.

He smiled triumphantly, expecting to hear the sound of uncontrollable laughter and her begging for mercy any second, but it never came.

Then, his triumphant smile quickly turned into a wide-mouthed scream. While he wasn't looking, Ginny had cast the Bat Bogey Hex on him and now huge bats were flying all over his face, effectively shutting him up.

She smirked, but it soon melted away when -

"Miss! That - that spell!"

Ginny turned around to see a man that she didn't know looking at her in shock. He was rather large, and had a stack of scrolls gripped tightly in his hand.

She gulped.

"Bat Bogey Hex, I presume?"

She nodded.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"Ginny - Ginny Weasley, sir," she said, thinking that this must be their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"Well, Miss Weasley - would you care to accompany me back to my compartment?" he asked, holding out his arm.

"Okay," she said nervously.

They headed down the train into an empty compartment.

"Sit, sit," the man said.

She obeyed his orders tentatively. He grabbed a teacup off of a tray and poured some tea into it.

"Tea, my dear?" he asked. She shook her head silently. "Suit yourself," he shrugged, taking a sip.

"Oh, I just realized, I haven't told you my name yet! Where are my manners?" he said, putting down his tea. "I'm Professor Slughorn, your new Professor this year," he said. "Just came out of retirement - Dumbledore brought along _Harry Potter_ to convince me, and I must admit, it quite worked."

"Harry Potter?" burst out Ginny. "I know him. He comes over to our house every summer."

Slughorn's eyebrows shot up. "Really, now?" he said. "Interesting… Interesting…" He took another sip of tea and looked at her directly in the eye. He laughed.

"No need to be uncomfortable, now, dear! It's not like I'm putting you in detention!"

"Wait," said Ginny, confused. "You're not?"

"Of course I'm not!" he boomed. "Quite on the contrary. I brought you here to talk and maybe have a bit of lunch - I'm collecting the very best at Hogwarts, you see," he said, looking excited. "And it's clear that you have talent! Just look at that Bat Bogey Hex!"

"Oh," said Ginny, leaning back in her chair. She felt a lot more comfortable now.

"What are those?" she asked, pointing at the scrolls he had been holding earlier.

"Oh, just some invitations," he said, waving them off. "I'm going to give them to some people who I'd like to join me for lunch."

"Should I give some out for you?" she asked, sitting up straight.

"Yes, that would be lovely, thank you," he said, smiling at her. Once he had told her which people to deliver them to, she set off and handed them out.

By the time she got back, mostly everyone was in their seats.

"Yes, I think everyone's here," said Slughorn, "All except for - Harry, m'boy!"

He beamed, jumping up and looking in the direction of the door. Harry and Neville had just arrived.

"Good to see you, good to see you!" And you must be Mr. Longbottom!"

When everyone was seated, Slughorn took it in turns to talk to everybody about someone in their family who was either rich, well-connected, or influential. She was the only one there who had been invited for another reason, except for Harry, of course.

When he had finished talking, Slughorn insisted that they stay for a while, so Ginny got to talk to Harry and Neville.

"So, how come you ended up in here, Ginny?" asked Harry.

"He saw me hex Zacharias Smith," said Ginny. "You remember that idiot from Hufflepuff who was in the D.A.? He kept on and on asking about what happened at the Ministry and in the end he annoyed me so much I hexed him-when Slughorn came in I thought I was going to got detention, but he just thought it was a really good hex and invited me to lunch! Mad, eh?"

"Yeah," said Harry, grinning. "It's mad that anyone would invite you to their party."

Ginny rolled her eyes.


	2. Oliver and the Quidditch Cup

**Hi everyone! Here's the second story! I hope you like it! By the way, this will be combined with the Golden Snitch Forum. It's late for the QLFC, so I wasn't going to publish it, but then I remembered that I combined it with the Golden Snitch, so… yeah! Here it is! By the way, this is an AU… ish. The events here don't happen in the series, so… I think it is?**

 **Team: Puddlemere United**

 **Position: Chaser Two**

 **Position Prompt: Gloves (write about a witch or wizard protecting someone)**

 **Optional Prompts:**

 **(setting) a Quidditch Pitch**

 **(word) Grass-stain**

 **(dialogue) "Should we tell him that it's fake?"**

 **Word Count (not including AN): 642**

 **Beta'ed by: JBrocks917**

 **Here it is: Oliver and the Quidditch Cup. I know, great title, right (note the sarcasm)?**

"Madam Pomfrey! You can't!"

Oliver Wood was sitting in a bed at the hospital wing, fighting his magical restraints.

"I think you'll find I can, Mr. Wood. You musn't strain yourself so soon after receiving that injury."

"But, Madam Pomfrey —"

"No, Mr. Wood. That's my final answer."

Oliver groaned and leaned back in his bed. He would have to break the bad news to his team. This would not be good.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

" _This is not good!"_ shrieked Angelina, who was standing at the edge of his bed along with the rest of the team, "Oliver, you can't be sick now! We have a Cup to win!"

"I know," said Oliver dejectedly, "But Madam Pomfrey says I can't."

"But it's against _Slytherin,_ Oliver. _Slytherin_!" Katie exclaimed.

The team looked at each other, depressed. "There's still time to get a reserve," said Oliver, "We can still do this!" But deep inside, he knew he was trying to convince _himself_ more than them.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The Gryffindor team walked out onto the Quidditch Pitch to a loud mixture of cheers and boos. Their reserve Keeper, Ron Weasley, turned a pale shade of green. Harry patted him on the back. The team walked over to Madam Hooch so that she could start the match.

"Captains, shake hands." she said.

Angelina, their temporary Captain, stepped forward and shook the Slytherin Captain's hand. They glared at each other and quickly let go.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and so the game began.

Both teams took off into the air while Lee Jordan commentated.

"Johnson in possession — she passes to Bell — ooh, she just got blocked by a Bludger from a Slytherin Beater. Close one, Alicia!"

Oliver looked on sadly through the window in the hospital wing, silently rooting for his team so as not to cause too much of a ruckus. He sighed and leaned back, wishing that he was out there with them.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Oliver is _so_ lucky he isn't here with us right now," said George, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, "They're totally beating us up."

The team had called a time-out, and, with their shoes covered with grass-stains from when they had trudged over to Angelina, their chests heaving from their futile attempts to stop Slytherin from scoring, and their spirits dampened from the seemingly hopeless game, they huddled together in a circle of depression.

"Now, don't say that!" scolded Angelina, "You'll jinx us."

"What's there to jinx?" asked Fred, "Our chance at winning? 'Cause that doesn't exist."

Angelina said nothing.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

In the end, they lost the match 20 – 250. As the they dejectedly exited the pitch, the twins had an idea.

"Why don't we just make a fake trophy and give it to him?" said George.

"There's a window in the hospital wing. He would've seen the whole game."

"Maybe he fell asleep?" said Fred hopefully.

"Not likely." Angelina shook her head. "But let's see."

As they made their way up, they felt their spirits rise, as they couldn't hear depressed sobbing coming from the hospital wing.

"Hey, Oliver!" said George brightly as they arrived.

"So, did you win the game?" he asked excitedly.

"Err… Yeah! Yeah, we won!" said Fred.

Oliver was practically levitating from happiness. "So, where's the Cup?" he asked, craning his head in an attempt to see behind them, expecting to see the golden gleam of the trophy.

" _Quick, conjure something!"_ whispered George, noticing.

With a quick wave of her wand, Katie (who was in the back of the group) conjured up a Quidditch Cup.

"Here!" she said, bringing it to Oliver.

As he cooed over it, Harry whispered to Ron, "Should we tell him that it's fake?"

"Nah," said Ron, "I think he needs this. The only thing I'm worrying about is what will happen to us when he finds out."


	3. Staring at an Angel

**Hello! Here's the next story! I've combined it with a few challenges. I don't really ship Seamus/Lavender, tbh, but this was a lot of fun to write! Enjoy!**

 **200 Different Pairings Challenge - Seamus/Lavender**

 **The Golden Snitch:**

 **Madame Malkin's Dress Up Shop - Bunny Slippers**

 **Superstitious Nonsense - Rabbit's Paw, Four Leaf Clover**

 **Team: Puddlemere United**

 **Position: Chaser Two**

 **Position Prompt: Bette Davis Eyes - Kim Carnes**

 **Optional Prompts:**

 **(word) blend**

 **(word) arrow**

 **Word Count (not including AN): 929**

 **Beta'ed By: JBrocks917, obscurialdefenseclub, and desertredwolf. Thanks guys!**

 **Here's the next one: Staring at an Angel.**

Seamus had never really noticed Lavender before.

To him, she had always been just another passersby in the many halls of Hogwarts — sure, her face was more familiar than the others, but she wasn't not really someone he noticed.

Until now.

He just couldn't stop staring at her.

Her hair, the way it shimmered in the sun, or the way it swished from side to side when she walked, catching little beads of sunshine on its long, silky strands…

Or her eyes — her brown, brown, eyes — so dark and chocolatey, like hot cocoa with mini marshmallows on a snowy day…

Or her lips, plump, round, and red. Perfection.

All this blended together into one, perfect image was what made him stare at her every single minute of every single hour of every single day.

He had no idea why.

And, for some reason, he had been finding himself trying to impress her — make himself look good in front of her. This more often than not resulted in a red-faced Seamus, a giggling Lavender, and a snorting Dean.

"You've been struck," Dean had said, after an encounter with Lavender that had left him in a fit of laughter.

"By what?" Seamus had asked, puzzled.

"By Cupid's arrow," he replied.

"Who's Cupid?" Seamus asked.

Dean snorted. "It doesn't take a genius to figure it out," he had said, and then winked mysteriously.

After that incident, he had started asking around the Gryffindor Common Room who Cupid was. But everyone had the same reaction — snort and walk away.

People seemed to be doing a lot of snorting at him lately.

After a few weeks of staring, he had gone to Madam Pomfrey.

"Madam Pomfrey," he said, "I think I might be sick."

After he had explained his condition, she smiled.

"There's nothing wrong with you, boy," she said. "You're just lovestruck."

She was about to start a long, boring, wistful speech about young love, but before she could, Seamus puked on the floor. Madam Pomfrey rushed him into a bed, giving him a bucket and muttering something about love and ups and downs as she waved her wand over the mess.

After a night of recovery, Seamus was up and on his feet again, reveling in the use of them by pacing the common room and wearing down the carpet.

 _Could I really like Lavender?_ he thought. _Like,_ like _like_?

"Dean," he said one day as they walked to class. "Do you think I like Lavender? As in _like_ like?"

Dean smiled. "Has it really taken you this long to figure it out? I mean, you're my best mate, but sometimes you can be surprisingly dull."

Seamus punched him in the arm as he erupted into laughter.

 _Maybe I do like Lavender,_ he thought. _Just maybe._

Just then, Lavender passed by them on the way to one of her classes. "Hi, Seamus, Dean," she said with a smile.

"Hi," he said. "Er - do you like me?" he blurted. Lavender stopped and stared at him.

For once.

She blinked. "Yeah, I suppose," she said after a moment.

"So, do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"

"Sure," she smiled. "I'd like that."

* * *

Lavender sat across from Seamus at a table in the Three Broomsticks, sipping from her bottle of butterbeer as the loud sound of the students' chatter washed over them.

"So…" Seamus gulped nervously. How was he supposed to do this? He had never gone on as date before!

Lavender took another sip of her butterbeer, put it down, and looked at him.

"Why did you pick me?" he asked suddenly.

She looked mildly surprised. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, you agreed to go to Hogsmeade with me," he stated simply. "I know you got offers from a lot of other boys — Ernie MacMillan, Anthony Goldstein, and even Justin Finch-Fletchley, I'm pretty sure. So why me?"

Lavender frowned and leaned back in her chair, considering the answer.

Seamus expected that at any second that she would get up and announce that she had no idea why she had chosen him and should instead go out and find one of the other boys to be her date. But instead, she said, "Well… I guess I chose you because I just… I don't know, clicked with you, or something like that. Like, right now, with you, it just feels right, like this was _meant_ to happen. And you're really sweet, and kind, and a lot funnier than all the other boys who asked me. And they didn't do it as silly as you did." She rolled her eyes playfully and smiled, taking his hand from across the table. "Its funny the way the universe works sometimes."

Seamus' eyes widened. "Er - yeah," he said, looking at their entwined fingers. "Strange."

* * *

 _Seven Years Later_

Seamus leaned against the doorframe to their bedroom, staring at Lavender once again. She was sleeping peacefully, her breathing slow and even.

Her long, brown, wavy hair, spread all around her like a halo, glittering in the silver moonlight…

Her long, dark, elegant eyelashes that curved with the shape of her hidden eyes, warm, brown, and welcoming…

Her lips, plump, round, and pink, parted slightly as she took, slow, deep, breaths.

He stared at her, smiling. She was beautiful, inside and out, and Seamus knew that he couldn't imagine his life without her.

And he never wanted to.

He pulled something out of his pocket.

 _I'll do it soon,_ he decided, looking at the golden ring and back at Lavender. _Definitely._


	4. Sisters Forever

**Hello all! Here's the next one, and sadly my last for Puddlemere (probably, at least). :( The Quidditch League season has probably ended for us Puddles as we are currently in last. But, I'm not sad at all! Honestly, I don't care if we win or lose, I just loved fooling around and having fun with my team. I'm not entirely sure if I'll come back next season, due to the stress of the due dates because I am a major procrastinator plus school. I am planning to make a lot more time for A New Era of Mischief and Living the Harry Potter Dream, so expect to see those soon! Also, I'm planning to extend some of my one-shots, including ones from the Never Ending Story and this collection, so be on the lookout for those! Now, on with it!**

 **Team: Puddlemere United**

 **Position: Chaser Two**

 **Position Prompt: Bishop (Write about a 'dark' character acting moral)**

 **Optional Prompts:**

 **(dialogue) "What makes you so sure it was me?"**

 **(word) checkmate**

 **(object) chessboard**

 **Word Count (not including AN): 876**

 **Beta'ed By: JBrocks917 and desertredwolf. Thank you!**

 **DISCLAIMERS: I have no idea how to play chess, so all you chess-crazy people out there, I'm sorry if I got any rules wrong.**

 **And, by the way, I know Andromeda didn't fight in the battle, but for the purposes of this story, let's pretend she did. And also for the purposes of this story, let's pretend that Narcissa didn't exist. And I know, I know, without her Draco wouldn't have existed, and without her Voldemort would have probably won the war and stuff, but instead let's pretend that in this story, someone else did all that stuff. Okay? Okay.**

 **Now, here's the last story for Season 5: Sisters Forever.**

Lights. Streaks of colors on a mission. Hurt. Protect. Kill.

Screams. Music to her ears. Scared. Sorrowful. Bloodcurdling.

Glee. The emotion she feels as they fall, fall, fall.

Bellatrix danced across the battlefield, throwing spells left and right, reckless but lethal. One by one, enemies fell to her wand, and the ground became littered with the bodies of her victims.

This was her playground.

She spun around, a deranged smile upon her face, her wild hair flying everywhere, ready to face her next unfortunate opponent.

That was when she saw her.

Andromeda.

She was fighting Greyback.

And Bellatrix knew Greyback loved to kill.

He was overpowering her.

He lunged.

It all happened in a fraction of a second.

* * *

 _December_ _17, 1961_

 _Bellatrix and Andromeda sat at a small table by the hearth, lounging in plushy chairs, their young, round faces lit by the dancing flames as they played chess. Andromeda's face was scrunched up in concentration as she stared at the chessboard, contemplating her next move._

" _Okay, bishop… Move to… that square next to Bella's rook."_

 _As the piece carried out her order, Bella sighed, smiled, and looked up at her sister._

" _When are you going to learn that all these squares have names?" she asked playfully as the Bishop dragged her rook to the side, where a little army of equally colored chess pieces was piled up. "But it doesn't matter anyway." She moved her knight over to Andromeda's king._

" _Checkmate!"_

" _I'm not worried," said Andromeda as she swept the remaining pieces off the board. "I'm going to win next time."_

" _We'll see about that."_

 _Just then, as silence fell over the two sisters for a moment, they heard shouting from down below._

" _I think Mum and Dad are fighting again," said Andromeda quietly._

" _Yeah," said Bella. "Do you think they'll ever stop?"_

" _I hope they do."_

 _Another silence fell._

" _Bella," said Andromeda suddenly, holding out her pinky. "Let's promise that we'll always be sisters, no matter what. Deal?"_

" _Deal," replied Bella as they locked pinkies. "Sisters forever."_

* * *

 _August 12, 1972_

 _Bellatrix descended the stairs of her house. She had heard yelling, and decided to find the source of the commotion. "What's going o—?" But she was cut short by the scene in front of her. Andromeda was standing in front of her mother, pink-faced and yelling, while her mother stood as still as stone. Her cold, hard glare scorched holes into Andromeda, white-hot fury flashing in her eyes._

" _Mother, I'm_ going _to marry him!"_

" _No daughter of mine would_ ever _associate themselves with scum like_ that _! And that includes_ you, _Andromeda!"_

" _But mother, we're in love!"_

"' _But mother,' 'but mother'..." Her eyes flashed red as she shouted. "I am not your mother! You are no daughter of mine!"_

 _The room fell silent._

 _Tears welled up in Andromeda's eyes._

 _She looked up at Bellatrix with swollen, pleading eyes._

 _But Bellatrix turned away._

 _And then, Andromeda burst._

" _Fine!" she shouted, sounding like she was close to crying. "Fine!" And then, in a moment of cold clarity, she had grabbed her cloak, wrenched open the door, and ran outside into the pouring rain, slamming it behind her, the sounds of her sobs still echoing in Bella's mind in the ringing silence left behind._

" _Sisters forever…" said the haunting voice of Andromeda inside of Bellatrix's head. "Sisters forever… Sisters forever…"_

* * *

And in that moment, Bellatrix's conscience spoke up for the first time in many, many years:

 _You broke that promise once._

 _Don't do it again._

"Avada Kedavra!"

And when Andromeda lowered her hands from her eyes, all she saw was the corpse of Fenrir Greyback lying in front of her.

As she looked around, searching for the person that had saved her, Bellatrix quickly spun away from her, attempting to make it seem like she had just been battling her opponents all along — that someone else had been Andromeda's savior. But the soft sound of footsteps behind her told her it was no good. A warm hand touched her shoulder.

"Thank you."

Those were the first words she had said to Bella in years.

Bellatrix slowly turned around to face her sister. "What makes you so sure it was me?" She tried to sound cold and aloof — that Andromeda was beneath her notice — but knew she failed miserably. For once, she didn't care.

Andromeda cracked a small smile. "Let's face it: You've never really been the best at faking things."

The corners of Bellatrix's mouth lifted, ever so slightly.

"I wasn't, was I?"

An awkward silence fell between them.

Then, a voice yelled, "Watch out!" and they both jumped back, just in time to see a giant boulder crashing down to where they would have been.

And then, seeming to remember that they were in the middle of a war, they both came back to their senses.

"Well, I guess I should be going," said Andromeda, clearing her throat.

"Yes," said Bellatrix, composing herself. "Right."

Andromeda turned to leave.

Bellatrix did too.

But they both hesitated. And, halfway there, they turned back.

"Hey," said Andromeda, holding out her pinky. "Sisters forever. Deal?"

"Deal," replied Bella, and for a fraction of a moment, she smiled — a real, true smile. "Sisters forever."

And they hooked pinkies.


	5. Grieving

**Hello! Welcome to the first story for Season 6 of the Quidditch League! Enjoy!**

 **Team: Puddlemere United**

 **Position: Chaser 1**

 **Position Prompt: Write a genre you've never written before (Hurt/Comfort)**

 **Optional Prompts: (word) homemade**

 **Word Count: 1020**

 **Beta-ed by: obscurialdefenseclub, desertredwolf, and JBrocks917. Thank you!**

Black banners were hanging on the dull grey walls of the old building, and the heavy silence thickly blanketed the too still room. How could silence weigh so heavily?

Aberforth Dumbledore looked down sadly as they carried the open casket by, refusing to look at the lifeless body of his sister. Memories of his sister Ariana still flickered through his head like one of those new-fangled Muggle movies, black and white moving pictures. He might have snorted in a different situation. Wizards had had those for millenia.

"Thank you for being here today," said a man standing at a podium. He wore a long, sweeping black robe and looked much too bright and enthusiastic to be speaking at a funeral. "Ariana Dumbledore was an exceptional…"

Aberforth stopped listening after that. What would _he_ know about his little sister? _An exceptional person…_ Ariana was— _had been_ so much more than that.

The man bowed and stood there for a moment, clearly expecting them to clap. He didn't care about Ariana at all. The only thing he cared about was the money and fame. Idiot. The man returned to his seat in utter silence.

After the ceremony, Albus approached Aberforth. His eyes were red. _He isn't sorry,_ Aberforth thought. _He's just acting. He was always good at that, after all._

"Aberforth," he said, "I am so sorry. It's —"

"You should be," Aberforth replied thickly, his anger bubbling up like hot magma, a furious, uncontrollable force. "It's all your fault."

"I—"

"Don't you see? You've been putting your obsession with an old _children's book_ before your own sister! It's all 'Hallows, Hallows, Hallows' and 'Brilliant Gellert!'"

"Aberforth, just let me —"

"Why should I let you do _anything?_ You killed our sister! _You — killed — her!"_

His fist shot forward before he knew what he was doing, and Albus staggered backwards, clutching his freely bleeding nose.

"Aberforth, please, I —"

But Aberforth didn't give him a chance to reply. He punched him hard, again and again, until that stupid man who had given the speech earlier pulled them apart, tutting.

"Boys ... boys!" he said, with his irritatingly cheerful expression. "There's no reason to fight, now…"

"Shut up!" yelled Aberforth, wheeling around to face him. "Shut _up!_ You don't know _anything!"_

And with that, he turned and ran away from them, ignoring their shouted protests trailing after him. He didn't stop running until he reached his house, deliberately ignoring the window peeking into what had once been Ariana's room as he passed it. As he tore through the pasture gates, he bolted into the creaky homemade stable and buried himself in the small pile of hay in the corner, breathing in the comforting smell of the building.

Daisy nudged him with her horns, but he didn't look up. She nudged him again, refusing to go unacknowledged.

After a few minutes, he had the whole herd gathered around him. Grass (they were all named after their favorite foods) tried to roll him over with his hooves. Tin Can, Aberforth's personal favorite (though he didn't tell any of the others that) knew not to disturb him, and instead stood to the side, bleating softly.

When Aberforth still did not react to their insisting, they sat down beside him, the bells on their neck tinkling quietly.

Tin Can, Daisy, Grass, and all of his other goats seemed to bury him in their fur. The heat radiating from their bodies enveloped him snugly.

"Aberforth?"

He felt someone approach and looked up. It was Bathilda Bagshot, the kind young woman who lived across the road.

"I noticed you were feeling down," she said, "so I brought you some cookies. Homemade." She offered a plate piled high with a mountain of chocolate-chip treats. He took one for himself and broke another into pieces, giving it to the goats.

"Thank you," he said, biting into one. It was perfect, light and fluffy and sweet all at the same time.

"In my experience, cookies will lighten even the lowest of spirits," she said, sitting down next to him. "Tell me, what's the problem?"

"Hasn't your _nephew_ told you?" he said bitterly. "Ariana's _dead."_

That shocked her into silence for a moment.

"I'm sorry for your loss," she said quietly. "I did wonder why Gellert left so suddenly…"

Instead of speaking, he ate another cookie. Tin Can ate the silver tray instead, which made Aberforth _almost_ smile. _Almost._ He reached over and petted the goat's back.

Hay, Cardboard, and Albus' Trophies immediately crowded around him, all pushing each other for their own back rubs.

"Ariana was a bright girl," Bathilda continued over the goats' squabbling. "The world has lost a wonderful person. "

"'Wonderful' is an understatement," Aberforth muttered. "Ariana was… everything." He turned away from her and tossed the goats another cookie, and they abandoned their fight for back rubs and began another fight for the last cookie.

"Well," she said suddenly, standing up and brushing off her skirt, "I can see you don't want to talk to little old me. I'll leave you to it. Just let me know if you need anything at all, dear. I'm just next door." As she turned to leave, Aberforth called after her.

"Bathilda?"

"Yes?" she asked, surprised.

"Thank you," he said after a moment's hesitation.

She smiled. "Of course, dear." And with that, she exited the pasture.

Aberforth sighed and stood up, brushing past Trousers' horns as he approached the goat fight. He picked up the sweet cause of the quarrel and broke it into small pieces, distributing them among the flock.

As he watched his goats happily gobble up their treats, he smiled, actually smiled, and thought that everything might be okay. He still had people who loved him, and though Ariana could not be here anymore, he still would keep her in his heart.

He took a shaky, deep breath and felt his shoulders relax. He hadn't even realized they had been tense. In this moment, he began to feel at peace; for as long as he remembered her, everything would be alright.

She would live, at least in him, forever.


	6. Pigwidgeons

**Here's the next story! Enjoy!**

 **Team: Puddlemere United**

 **Position: Chaser One**

 **Position Prompt: Tamagotchi**

 **Optional Prompts: (color) mauve, (word) barbaric, (object) glitter**

 **Word Count: 1090**

 **Beta'ed by: JBrocks917. Thank you!**

Ron Weasley was entrusted with a pet puffskein at the tender age of four, which turned out to be a very bad decision, both for the Weasleys and the creature in question.

Ron was so overjoyed to finally have a pet that he never let it go once until he got home, where he immediately ran up to his bedroom and began to pile up spare pillows and blankets to make a bed for it. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, testing different names out loud to see which one sounded right for his new puffskein when his three year-old sister Ginny sauntered in and said, slightly stumbling over the word, "Pi-wi-geon."

"Piwigeon?"

"P-i-g-w-i-d-geon."

"Pigwidgeon?"

She nodded solemnly, pointing a pudgy finger at Ron's new puffskein.

"Pigwidgeon? Ginny, that's a —" He was interrupted by the puffskein, who had started to emit a low humming sound; according to the clerk at Magical Menagerie, this meant that the puffskein was deeply contented.

"Pigwidgeon!" Ginny said happily.

And so, Pigwidgeon the Puffskein came into existence.

* * *

After the glamour of actually having a pet wore off, Ron started to realize it wasn't all fun and games.

Of course, there were ups, such as a friend who wouldn't tease you, nag you, or make you feel stupid. A few bonuses were that Ron was sure to have a clean nose every day, as well as the fact that puffskeins ate spiders, ensuring that Ron's bedroom was kept arachnid-free.

However, were also downs. Ron was in charge of making sure Pigwidgeon was well fed, got enough fresh air, kept from drinking anything out of the toilet, and was taken on daily walks, occasionally aided by Ginny, who only added more responsibility to Ron's already full plate. The other members of his family were unable to help, being already occupied by their own tasks (or in the case of Fred and George, a better word would probably be _shenanigans_ ).

But, he still managed it, and by the time Ron turned five years old Pigwidgeon was still as healthy as could be.

But still, health can't last forever.

The first time Pigwidgeon got sick was a very fine spring morning. Ron was outside watching over Ginny as Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George played a game of Quidditch, when all of a sudden, the puffskein started to turn an alarming shade of red very rapidly.

"Ron?" asked Ginny, who was currently cradling Pigwidgeon in her arms. "Is this normal?" She held the animal up to Ron for his inspection.

"Definitely not," he decided after a moment, taking the puffskein and running inside. He was almost positive that Fred and George hadn't been able to get their hands on Pigwidgeon, so it probably couldn't have been a prank.

"Mum!" he called as he approached the kitchen, where delicious aromas were wafting out. "There's something wrong with Pig!"

"Oh dear," she said, taking her attention off of the bubbling stew on the stove. "That doesn't look so good." A quick reference to _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ didn't help her diagnose Pigwidgeon, however, so she decided to make a visit to Magical Menagerie the next day, accompanied by Ron and Pig.

"Hmm," the witch at the counter mumbled, squinting at Pigwidgeon. The puffskein began to fidget under her gaze. "Probably just a common cold. Here, give it a teaspoon of this for a week" — she slid a dusty blue bottle across the counter — "and come back if there's any problems."

Mrs. Weasley thanked her and paid, and after a week Pig was good as new.

* * *

Pig's first birthday was a cause for a cake made from last night's leftovers, but he seemed happy nonetheless.

With a rendition of 'Happy Birthday' accompanied by many interruptions from Fred and George, and numerous presents to top it all off, it very well might have been the best day of Pig's life.

* * *

After almost three years with Pig, there occurred a terrible tragedy.

The twins were ten years old, almost off to Hogwarts, and their quest was to become two of the best Beaters Hogwarts had ever seen. They were truly dedicated, practicing day and night.

So it came as no surprise when the family Bludger was smashed to pieces.

And on a seemingly unrelated note, Ron was unable to find Pig, though he didn't find this too concerning at first.

The next day, at around noontime, everyone was seated at the table for lunch, when Fred and George suddenly cleared their throats and rose from their chairs.

"We have an announcement to make," said George, sounding almost ashamed.

Eyebrows went up. Since when were the twins ever _embarrassed?_

"Um — we — er — how do you say this — we kind of…killed Pig?" Fred winced, waiting for the explosion.

He was far from disappointed.

"YOU DID WHAT?" Ron yelled at them, standing up too.

"Well, you see," said George, sounding apologetic, "we were out last night —"

"— and as you know, the Bludger's broken," Fred continued, biting his lip.

"So we had the idea of using Pig as a Bludger."

"Except, well, you know how that absolutely _brilliant_ plan turned out."

"We really are sorry."

Bill shook his head. "That's just barbaric."

Ron and Ginny, aided by Fred and George, dug the puffskein a little grave in the garden, and the following days saw Ron brooding and ignoring the twins, despite their (admittedly half-hearted) protests of "We needed a Bludger!" and "Puffskeins are supposed to be very durable, you know! It's not our fault, it's his! Or _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ , for lying to us!"

Ginny made Ron a card, reading 'I'm sorry that Pig died' in large red glittery letters along with an attempted sketch of Pig in mauve crayon.

Poor Pigwidgeon.

* * *

Four years later, Ron sat in his bedroom, trying to decide what name sounded best for the little ball of energy whizzing around his room that was the new owl Sirius Black had given him.

Ginny opened the door and stuck her head in, grinning evilly. "Pigwidgeon," she said simply.

" _Ginevra Weasley, if you —"_ He was interrupted by a loud twittering sound, accompanied by the flutter of wings as the owl — no, _Pigwidgeon II —_ flew over to rest on Ginny's shoulder.

Ron groaned mentally. _No, not this again._

"Why, you —"

He stood up and ran after his sister, and although he could never catch her, he could hear her giggling all the way through the house.


	7. The Cost

**Hello! Behold, the fourth story for season six!**

 **Team: Puddlemere United**

 **Position: Chaser One**

 **Position Prompt: Write from a pet's perspective about mistreatment or abandonment (of pets of people).**

 **Optional Prompts: (plot point) receiving a pet as a gift, (location) Eeyelops Owl Emporium**

 **Word Count: 1235**

 **Beta'ed by: JBrocks917, Marvelgeek42, and desertredwolf. Thank you so much!**

She woke to the burning sensation of sunlight searing into her eyes. She looked up to see a man, a very, _very_ large man, carrying her cage by the handle. He swung it slightly and whistled, looking down at her when he realized she was awake.

"Yer going to make a great pet fer Harry," he said, "and a great friend, too. Yer going to like him, I'm sure of it."

She hooted softly to acknowledge him, then tucked her head back into her wing.

As if she would like _this_ human out of all the hundreds of other ones.

x-X-x

"Th-thank you," the boy said, stammering out his thanks and turning to face the large man.

"Don' mention it," said the man gruffly. "My gift."

From the spending the rest of the day shopping with the duo, she gathered that the large man's name was Hagrid and the little boy's name was Harry. When Hagrid left Harry at the Muggle train station, she was alone with him for what was the first time in what she was sure to be a million others. She stayed fairly silent during the ride to her new home, uncertain about this whole ordeal. When was the last time she had been in the outside world? Or even outside the Emporium, for that matter?

She looked out from under her wing for a moment, and immediately regretted it. Twenty pairs of eyes stared at her through the metal bars of her cage. She quickly hid her face again. How long would she have to live with this?

* * *

However bad the train was, her new home, Harry's home, turned out to be much worse.

When they arrived, she was treated to the sight of a beefy man with a thick neck and a skinny woman whose neck looked unnaturally long, much longer than that of any other human she had seen before. "A-a-an _owl?"_ the woman gasped, dramatically collapsing onto one of the couches that adorned the room.

The creature in question had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes.

Harry quickly dashed up the stairs to avoid further scolding, but loud shout reverberated through the house after them. "BOY!"

They entered a room filled with broken toys and trinkets and unopened books. Harry sat down on his bed, set the cage next to him, and sighed. "Sorry about that," he said, looking down at her. "Those are my aunt and uncle. I've lived with them ever since my parents died, and I'm afraid they aren't nice at all. But you get used to it eventually."

Harry rummaged through his many packages for a moment and found the owl treats, poking a few through the bars of her cage. "Eat up," he said. "We only have to survive for a month, then it's off to Hogwarts!" His face was so hopeful that she could feel her own spirits lifted, and hooted her shared sentiments.

Harry ended up naming her Hedwig, which he found from one of his history textbooks.

Hedwig. She liked it.

* * *

Hedwig hadn't understood why Harry had hated the Dursleys so much, but that was before she had actually met them.

They were _terrible._

She wasn't allowed out of her cage, and was only permitted to hunt once a week. She wasn't even able to hoot without riling up Harry's horrible relatives.

The first time they starved Harry, that was when she knew.

Harry was caught reading his new textbooks and his uncle declared that he had no meals for a week. Hedwig could hardly believe her ears, and she took pride in having better hearing than most. A _week?_ She couldn't imagine not being able to eat for that long. So the next time Harry gave her a batch of owl treats, she pushed one back at him. He smiled. "Thanks, Hedwig," he said, taking it.

Harry looked at it for a moment before taking an experimental nibble, and he immediately spit the piece back out again. Hedwig hooted what could only be described as a laugh, the first time she had done so since that day back in Diagon Alley. Harry laughed with her.

"Sorry," he said, dropping the rest of the treat back into her cage. "Guess it's not really my thing."

She knew then, that this would be her companion for life, and she would protect him no matter what the cost.

* * *

This was it. The end.

And she knew it.

They were going to leave Privet Drive forever, and though it was a horrible sort of home, it was, in a way, still home.

Harry's friends and honorary family members crowded into the tiny kitchen, their plan set into motion as she watched six other people slowly transform into Harry, her master, her friend, her family. They were supplied with glasses, clothes, and even stuffed snowy owls, all identical to Harry's. But of course, she could tell who the real one was. She could tell from a mile away. _Her_ Harry was one of the most nervous, glancing around at the others. But she knew that he wasn't worried for himself, rather his friends who he could never let die for him. _Her_ Harry held himself almost uncertainly, like he was approaching a small, wounded animal and he wasn't sure what on earth to do. _Her_ Harry never wasted a word, and could speak like the most determined person in the world, a quality that Hedwig found annoying at times but also rather brave, like he didn't care what the world thought of him as long as he kept speaking what was right and what was true.

She knew, from that fateful moment that one summer right at the very beginning, that she would die for this human. She would protect him, she would save him, no matter what the cost.

Harry carried Hedwig's cage close to him, tucking her in with him in the tiny sidecar attached to Hagrid's motorbike. The strange man named Moody—the one with the odd eyeball—gave the countdown, and off they were.

But as soon as they reached the air, dark, hooded figures were upon them, spells were flying, lights were flashing, and it was all Hedwig could do to keep an eye on Harry as she tumbled about in the little area, because all that mattered now was that he was safe. Broomsticks and thestrals flew about everywhere she looked, but she kept her large amber eyes focused on Harry, the human she had never thought she could love but had now become her family.

Suddenly, she felt the familiar rush of wind as the sidecar was tipped over and her cage was thrown into the air—she turned and saw a jet of green light, soaring like a deadly comet towards Harry, shooting through the bars of her cage, and instinctively she dove to block its path—there was screaming—there was light—and then there was one single moment of clarity in which she saw Harry's face, a mask of agony, his arms reaching out to her. "Hedwig!" he screamed, but it was too late—he faded from her vision—she was falling…

… and all she saw was light.


	8. The Many Faces of Sirius Black

**Hello, dear readers, and welcome! Just so you know, Harry is slightly OOC for the purposes of this story.**

 **Team: Puddlemere United**

 **Position: Chaser One**

 **Position Prompt: Use the title of a story written by your Chaser Two for inspiration (An Unexpected Turn of Events)**

 **Optional Prompts: (setting) Forbidden Forest, (object) broomstick, (object) candle**

 **Word Count: 2395**

 **Beta'ed by: JBrocks917, desertredwolf, and xxCallMeAmyxx. Thank you all!**

Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room, making sure that no one could see him as he scribbled furiously on a piece of parchment. Finally, he held up the paper to read it by the light of the fire.

 _Dear Snuffles,_

 _How are you? Hogwarts is fine, except for Trelawney. She predicts my imminent doom at least twice every day, and I'm getting sick of her overly hot tower room and overly sweet perfume._

 _Everything seems a bit more stressful now that Ron's not talking to me, but there's nothing really new that I didn't tell you last letter. Except for Divination. That seems even_ more _tiring and boring and everything than the others. I mean, how many times can you handle looking into tea cups and trying to see pictures without smashing the thing?_

 _Anyways, I hope you're doing better than me, wherever you are._

 _Harry_

He walked to the Owlery under the protection of the Invisibility Cloak, giving the letter to Hedwig and watching her fly off, then collapsing into his bed as soon as he arrived back in his dormitory.

* * *

The next day, Harry was sitting down at breakfast and pouring himself a glass of pumpkin juice when the mail arrived. To his surprise, Hedwig landed in front of him with a letter tied to her leg. She nipped at his pumpkin juice as he untied it.

"You wrote to Snuffles?" Hermione hissed, leaning forward. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was late," he whispered back. "You were in your dormitory!"

He unraveled the letter and read it under the table. What he saw surprised him. The letter read:

 _;)_

He flipped it over, squinted at it for any tiny hidden details, ran his fingers along it in case Sirius wrote something in Braille — in which case Harry thought it was a dumb idea, since he didn't know how to read Braille — tried casting spells on it, and even asked Hermione to borrow her Revealer, but that stubborn little winky face remained in its place.

 _;)_

He showed the letter to Hermione. As soon as she read it, she handed it back, shaking her head and saying, "Why do I already have a bad feeling about this?"

* * *

Meanwhile, Sirius was saying goodbye to Buckbeak in his cave. "I'll only be gone for a bit," he told him. "Just long enough to cause some mischief." He grinned devilishly.

And then he was gone.

* * *

Sybill Trelawney sat in her tower, draped with overlapping shawls and peering into her crystal ball through large spectacles. "I see…" She muttered to herself. "I see… It cannot be… a… a… _Grim!"_ For as plain as can be, a large, black dog seemed to be grinning at her through her crystal ball. Unable to look at the device any longer, she glanced upward, gasping with heavy breaths. Then she nearly fainted.

What she had seen in her crystal ball wasn't a prediction at all! It was a reflection! A Grim — _the_ Grim — was standing right in front of her, in _her_ tower!

She gasped and jumped to her feet. "Begone!" she cried, waving her tarot cards at the creature. When that didn't work, she started throwing her tea cups at it. "Begone!" she said again, but in her panic her aim was off, so most ended up hitting the wall, and those that managed to get near the Grim were easily dodged and instead smashed on the floor. Finally, in desperation, she picked up her planetary system diorama and hurled it at the creature with all her remaining strength, but it just bounced harmlessly off of its thick fur.

"Devil's… creature…" she mumbled before sinking to the floor. The creature walked over to her and prodded her with its toe. She was unconscious.

"Devil's creature," repeated Sirius, who had just transformed back into a man. "I'll take it as a compliment. I _am_ devilishly handsome, after all." He tipped an imaginary hat at her and climbed back out of her tower, disappearing into a tapestry not long after.

* * *

Harry's next Divination class, he was pleased to learn that they would not be trying to discern patterns out of tea leaves today.

"Professor, what happened to your teacups?" asked Parvati Patil, noticing that the cupboard usually holding them was empty.

"I… I had to use them all to ward off evil spirits," she said, looking uncomfortable and shifting her weight from one foot to another.

 _Whatever Sirius did to Trelawney is definitely working,_ thought Harry, grinning inwardly.

However, about two weeks later, Professor Trelawney had seemed to calm herself from whatever had been bothering her, and worst of all, she had bought a new set of china teacups.

"Our last lesson on tea reading was interrupted by devilish creatures," she whispered in her haunting way, swirling around the room and sticking her large-eyed face wherever she saw someone was dozing off, which was everywhere except Lavender and Parvati's table. "We must defy them by doing even better in our studies than we were before!"

She shot a dirty look at Ron, who was snoring in the back of the room, and then at Seamus, who was using his wand to burn a smiley face into the table. Anger quickly turned to panic when the whole desk was set aflame.

"All right," she said after the commotion was dealt with, straightening her shawls. "Maybe… maybe tarot cards would be better for today."

* * *

 _Dear Snuffles,_

 _I don't know what you did to Trelawney, but it worked! She was so scared during our lessons, we did nothing but look out the window while she just sat and looked into her crystal ball. She said we were supposed to look for the alignments of the stars, but it was daytime. I don't think I need to explain any further._

 _But after a while, she started becoming braver again. She tried to make us do tea leaves again, but Seamus set fire to a table and she took it as a bad omen and made us do tarot cards instead. After that, we did planets, which is_ almost _as boring as tea leaves, if you can believe it. I mean, how am I supposed to tell if Saturn and Jupiter are aligned, and what in the name of Merlin's pants does it mean? Our lessons are boring again, so can you_ please _do whatever you did before?_

 _Harry_

Sirius grinned widely as he thought of what to do and wrote a reply to Harry, then setting off towards the castle for the second time that month.

* * *

As soon as the mail came in the next morning, Harry searched the ceiling for any sign of Hedwig, and was delighted to see a spot of white among the brown and grey.

When she landed in front of him, he quickly ripped open the scroll tied to her leg.

The message was just as short as the one before it, but this time it read:

 _:D_

Harry grinned and stuffed the parchment into his pocket. He was sure Sirius would not let him down.

* * *

Sybill Trelawney was gazing out the window at the stars and trying to see the constellations when all of a sudden, the top of a head appeared. She gasped and jumped backwards. Gradually, the rest of the beast began to come into view: it was the Grim… on a broomstick.

She fainted.

A moment later, a man was sitting on the broomstick right where the Grim had been.

"Well, that was easy," he said, grinning to himself. "She didn't last nearly as long as last time. I _do_ have that effect on ladies." He thought for a moment. "Actually, I'd say she was getting tired of me, but that's impossible. People can't get _enough_ of me!"

And he flew off.

* * *

The next time Harry saw Trelawney, her tower was decorated with lit candles that added to the already unbearably stifling heat of the room, crosses, and many, _many_ tarot cards. He didn't even have a place to put down his book.

"Um, Professor? What are these for? Especially the _tarot cards_?" Lavender Brown asked, voicing the question that was on everyone's mind.

"I have been plagued by evil spirits," Trelawney said in her oh-so-mystical voice. "These are used to ward off evil." And without another word, she went back to gazing into her crystal ball.

Everyone looked around at each other, confused. What was going on with Trelawney? What were they supposed to do? And most importantly, _what was with all the tarot cards?_

* * *

Finally, after a week of boring Divination classes with literally _nothing_ to do, Professor Trelawney made an announcement.

"Dear students," she whispered as they all crowded around her, "the planets have told me that the evil spirits will haunt us no more. Venus and Mercury have aligned! We may now continue our lessons in peace!"

"Venus and Mercury have aligned?" Harry muttered. "I'm pretty sure all that means is 'mischief is beautiful.'" He heard Ron snicker and shot him a hopeful glance, but was swiftly disappointed when the redhead quickly composed himself, not even glancing at Harry.

And it certainly didn't help when the professor decided it was time to revert back to tea leaves.

* * *

 _Dear Snuffles,_

 _Trelawney just keeps bouncing back. She almost reminds me of a cockroach. Now matter how hard you try to squish them, they just never die! Plus, those glasses she wears make her look like a bug._

 _Anyways, can you please, please, please do whatever you did again? Please? For your favorite godson?_

 _Harry_

* * *

At breakfast, Harry eagerly awaited his letter from Sirius. When he had told Hermione what he was doing, she had disapproved, saying, "I know it's Trelawney, but you just can't _do that_ to a teacher!" He thought it was probably better to keep the only friend he had, but one, Divination was… Divination-y — no further explanation needed — two, it was hilarious, and three, it was _Trelawney._ Hermione had said so herself.

When Hedwig landed in front of him, he untied the letter from her leg, unfurled it, and read it under the table:

 _:P_

 _Divination,_ thought Harry as he stood up and walked away, ready for his classes. _Such a treat._

* * *

Sirius was reading Harry's letter for the fifth time and brainstorming what else to do.

"I've already done everything, Buckbeak," he said to the hippogriff, who was in a corner munching on bones. "Harry was right, that woman is remarkably like a cockroach."

Buckbeak didn't answer him, instead squeezing out of the cave and flying off.

"Hey!" Sirius yelled after him, going out too. "Thanks for your input! That was sarcastic, by the way!"

Buckbeak ignored him, heading towards the Forbidden Forest.

"The Forbidden Forest…" Sirius muttered, then brightened up. "You're brilliant, Buckbeak!" He headed back into the cave. "That wasn't sarcastic, by the way!" he called, poking his head back out.

* * *

Sybill Trelawney was gazing out the window again, letting the steam air out of her tower — a result of many boiled cups of water after making more tea for predictions — when she saw it.

The moonlight seemed to shift onto the entrance of the Forbidden Forest as a dark shape loomed out of it, looking straight at her. It was — you guessed it — the Grim.

Professor Trelawney was tiring of all these visits from the Grim. Even she — probably the most superstitious person for miles around — wasn't that afraid of it anymore. More agitated.

She used her wand to levitate herself outside right in front of the creature, her fury making it so she was nothing more than a blur of orange shawls flapping in the wind and bug eyes steeled with rage. She took off her orange-pink slipper and whacked the Grim repeatedly over the head with it. She thought she heard someone snickering in the background, but she couldn't be sure. All her attention was focused on this one, annoying creature.

"You" — _whack_ — "annoying" — _whack_ — "little" — _whack_ — "creature" — _whack_ — "stop" — _whack —_ "pestering" — _whack_ — "me!" Extra hard whack.

The Grim bounded back into the woods when she raised her slipper again, and the moonlight shifted back, as if the moon itself was afraid of casting its light upon her.

Trelawney levitated back into her tower, trying to discern more images from her tea, but ending up smashing most of her cups.

* * *

Back in the Forbidden Forest, an ego-wounded Sirius Black was rubbing his head and wincing, while his best friend, Remus Lupin, gave him a stern talking-to.

"I _told_ you it wouldn't work a third time! Trelawney's not as dumb as you think, however cockroach-like she may be. I _tried_ to convince you, but classic Sirius, you didn't listen to me! And _moving the moonlight?!_ I mean, where'd you even get the _idea_ —"

"But you did it, didn't you?" said Sirius, grinning through his headache and ego-ache. "You always were good with Moony Matters — hey! My head hurts, you know!"

"And that's why I hit you there."

"When did you get so boring? I think the Moony I knew was abducted by aliens, because _my_ Moony used to love these things." He looked at Remus and grinned. "Begone!"

Remus rolled his eyes. "When did you get so egotistical? Oh, wait, you were always like that."

"You have to admit, my pranks are always good!"

"Yeah," Remus grinned, "but seeing you get whacked over the head repeatedly with Trelawney's slipper was even better."

* * *

 _Dear Snuffles,_

 _I don't think it worked this time. Trelawney's more annoyed than scared, and she's been giving us loads of homework! The only good thing out of this is she smashed all her teacups again and she doesn't have the money to buy more._

 _Anyways, can you do it one more time? Just one? One single, puny time? Please?_

 _Harry_

Sirius' reply was simple:

 _:(_


End file.
